University of Virginia Library

SCENE 1.

Bellmour, Bargrave, Woodly.
*Bell.
Justice! didst thou say?

Wood.
Consider, Bargrave—
Fortune to Bellmour might have giv'n Success—

Bar.
'Tis true—and then my self had been the Sufferer.
Can you upbraid me for the casual Blessing?

Wood.
No—but yet think, had you the Loser prov'd,
Bellmour had scorn'd t'improve his Game so basely:
He wou'd not, sure, have urg'd it to your Ruin.

Bar.
How know I that? Nay, how cou'd I have blam'd him?
Int'rest shou'd ever be pursued, and sought.

Wood.
You'd make the World believe you sordid. Sure,
Bargrave is not so base, nor so reduc'd,
That he must, for his Int'rest, crush his Friends.
You have Abundance—

Bar.
And you'd have me squander it—

Wood.
No—but be human, merciful, and kind:
Let Charity dispose you to be friendly
To the Distress'd, who suffer by your Means.
Think how, by simple Accidents—

Bar.
No more.
Woodly, your are his Surety—and you strive
More for your own Sake, than your Friend's, to move me.

Wood.
Then I shou'd merit all that Woe, from which
I beg you'd save this Family. O, Sir,
Calmly consider what you do, nor bring
Destruction on the Guiltless. If at Game,
You've had Success, thro' no dishonest Means;
Assert your Innocence, by Acts of Goodness.
If 'twas but Chance, regard his Debts as casual;
Nor set a Value on them, they deserve not.
The Wise are never proud of Fortune's Smiles,
Nor think her Boons their Property and Blessing.
A noble Soul courts Offices of Mercy,
And glories more in being good, than mighty.

Bar.
Woodly, I've long been patient. Now 'twere vain
To urge to protract my Day of Grace.
Besides, I'd not have you officious—

Wood.
Sir,
I cannot be so, in my Friend's Behalf.

Bar.
Then blame me not, if you repent your medling.

Wood.
I know the Obligation I have sign'd—

Bar.
Think also on the legal Consequences.
But, Sir,
Taking of Mercy, how can you expect it,
Who, obstinately, and with proud Disdain,
Refuse me fair Belinda for a Wife?

Bell.
'Twou'd ill become me to advise my Sister
To wed the Man who has undone her Brother.

Bar.
But, by that only Means, you can be safe—

Bell.
Think you I'm fall'n so low, to make Exchange
So vile and base? To barter her dear Life,
Her Beauty, and her Happiness, for Safety!
No, sordid Wretch, I rate her Virtues higher.

Bar.
Then you despise my Favour—

Bell.
As thy self.
Nor seek I Pity, but for this my Friend,
And a poor beggar'd Family. My self
Is in your Power: Do with me what you please.

Bar.
Yet tamely think, before 'tis late to court me.

Bell.
Say, can you give me back my old Possessions,
Restore my lost hereditary Grandeur,
And native Honesty, which first you tempted?
Set me at Rights—make me my self again—
When that is done, then be thy self a Convert—
Shew thy self lovely, honourable, just—
Be what thou should'st be, worthy of Belinda—
Then ask her freely—woo her in thy Charms—
And, doubt not, I will stand thy faithful Friend.

Bar.
Mere Cant, and Passion!—Bellmour, be advis'd—
Consult your Interest. Reason lies in that!
Int'rest is Reason; and when Reason leaves
The human Soul, a Beggar's not so naked.

Bell.
Deluded Wretch! thou never yet knew'st Reason,
Or it has left thy Soul to brutal Wildness.
Reason's the Beauty, Excellency, and Glory,
Of human Kind. 'Tis—

Bar.
Bellmour! preach no more.
When next I see you, you'll accept my Terms.
I lose my Time. Farewel.

Wood.
Yet, Sir, have Patience—